No the crazy is worse then that

So Mae says I should take precautions. Lemme tell you about my precautions. I have a super duper alarm system. Every window and door in my house is alarmed. I have a panic button, motion sensors and so on. Even the man door in my garage is alarmed. If a door to my house opens even if the alarm ins't set, it beeps. The only things in my house that are not alarmed are my screen door (which is getting fixed soon since my son knows how to open it), my attic and my crawl space. Okay are you ready. I am actually terrified someone will come into my house through the attic and/or crawl space. When my husband asks me how exactly they will get in there, I look at him like he's an idiot and say, dead seriously, "Well duh Rob, when we are at work they will just cut a small hole in that side of our house over there and crawl right under!" I am 100% serious as I say this. I have inquired about alarming my crawl and attic space. I was laughed at.

But wait theres more. I won't flush a toilet at night. I don't know why, I think somehow I'm afraid it will let the kidnappers know I'm awake and they will come get me. Also the closet doors all have to be shut or I freak out. I can't see the closet door from my bed but if I get up for a drink or to go pee and notice it is open, even two inches, I lose my shit. WHY? Because 2 inches is the perfect amount for a killer to be peaking out. Did I also mention we have no fewer then five guns in our house (we have a permit) and I live next door to a cop, across from a military guy and a few houses away from a US marshal! None of this comforts me. I figure the burglar will do his research and come after me because our house is the non police/military house!

This is why Brandon sleeps with me. When he was a newborn Rob used to work nights. I realized that I was too afraid to even go to Brandons room (which at the time the door to his room was less then a foot from mint) because I was afraid of being killed. So I moved all his changing stuff to the foot of my bed. This is when I realized I was not going to ever be able to let him sleep in his room because that is just like leaving a big red juicy target for killers. So you ask, "hey Shannon, you are going to have another kid, what will you do with this one?" I have nooooo fucking clue people. I am starting to think i will have two kids in my bed. Then you say all cocky and matter o factly, "well Shannon, what did you do before Rob lived with you?" Well duh, I was a drunk insomniac. I barely slept I would sit up all night watching Food Network, then when it went to infomercials I would go online and chat with my friends on AOL. When I noticed I was getting too tired after a few nights of this I would take some Nyquil, an Ambian and a shot of Jaeger and count on my guard dog to wake me up if someone came near my house (which he totally rocked at).

So there. I'm crazier then you thought. What have you got for me now? I'll tell you why I'm crazier and crazier.